


Cahier des Tresors

by bluegerl



Category: Actor RPF, Sean Bean - Fandom
Genre: Cahier de Tresors., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-22
Updated: 2011-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:39:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegerl/pseuds/bluegerl





	Cahier des Tresors

  


Title: Cahier des Tresors  
Author: [](http://bluegerl.livejournal.com/profile)[**bluegerl**](http://bluegerl.livejournal.com/)    
Archive: Rugbytackle  
Rating: NC17 Warnings nil  
Category RPS Sean and Viggo  
Comments; As always, my thanks to dear Beta, [](http://rubyelf.livejournal.com/profile)[**rubyelf**](http://rubyelf.livejournal.com/)  , such a help and guide.  so all mistakes are mine  
Disclaimer: As always, this is all made up, I don't know these peopl I hope I do not offend. Don't make money either!

Summmary: Sean wants to give Viggo something to treasure,

Cahier des Tresors, or The Book of Treasures

It is four months after Sean's Paris trip.

This morning as he was shaving, he'd turned to watch Viggo. He was still after all this time, fascinated with the way Viggo managed to shave with a bladed razor, not a frigging machine in that strongly defined dimple in his chin. He watched, mesmerized at the angle of arm; the raised hand, fingers pressing down pulling the dimple to stretch. The delicacy with which Viggo held the razor, as if it were a china tea-cup with his pinky-finger sticking out. The careful slow-pull of the blade up, sideways just a touche, a movement hardly, and Viggo's chin would emerge shining, clean, free from the white foam surround. It was always the first thing Viggo shaved, his dimple; he said "when I hurry and cut myself, it has the longest time to dry before I put my shirt on and get blood on it." So Viggo could be practical sometimes _in his own way._  Sean's heart smiled.

Then he'd watch how the muscles were lifting, rising, smoothing, falling under that fine skin, no spare padding anywhere. Sean saw, and couldn't refrain; he sneaked across, his face still covered in razorgel and laid his mouth open, tongue ready on that place - there - just there... just below his shoulderblade round the ribs, just near where the elbow would fall .... and kissed, and licked.

Viggo squawked, threw his razor in the washbasin, turned and rugbyhugged Sean"s head. That snorted, grunted, and eeled its foamwet face downward. Sean's knees buckled on to the bathmat - their especially bought, fat thick woolly bathmat, large and accommodating to old-er knees, Sean's or Viggo's - either - no matter! His face somehow was still gripped with two wet hands, his ears enfolded, his face steadily, relentlessly being pushed into the dark crispy frizz of Viggo's 'willy warmer'. Sean liked Viggo's "warmer' it was totally ineffective, as Viggos _'willy'  -_ _huh, kid's name!  'Tis a real man's cock he has._  His willycock wasn't cold, it was _quite warm, really nicely warmer... and nicer...oh hoooh yers_....

He deliberatley paused in his attentions, " Hey Vigs, we was shaving jes' now - our faces..."  His face, still spotted here and there with traces of foam, beamed up at Viggo whose face was still half-covered in white lather, the other half of the lather in a hand... Sean ducked as best he could, fell sideways, made a grab for Viggo, Viggo's ... anywhere, but fortunately missed that particular grabhandle, and ended on his face on the floor, his head butting against the base of the bath-surround. Too late, he realised ... _Hell, I'm getting old, me reflexes aren't a patch on what they were_.... Viggo's reflexes on the other hand were superb, especially when aided by the sight of his laughter-snorting lover on his knees, his exquisite bum rising like the sun. Viggo thought, _What's a man to do, presented with THAT_.. and proceeded to put the powers of thought into action.

Sean was anointed - more lather, from face, from jar ... jar? That weren't for shaving with...but it would do as lube. Sean, still giggling madly, opened his knees wide, pushed his hand down past his middle stiff bit, and waggled his fingers behind his balls at his lover. So Viggo generously lubed that hand too, which withdrew to look for something to play with. Viggo had his plaything too, all ready go play, long and hard, and all day if it possibly could.... He leant forward, shuffling his knees on their Nice Woolly Bathmat, and showed Sean how delightful his plaything could be....

"C"mon Vigs - you know even you can't resist me bum smiling at yer..."

"Waddya mean - even me - _EVEN_ me?" Viggo withdrew a little hurt, offended, "Even _me?"_  
  
"Aargh, yer silly booger, I mean them women, the 'ladies' huh - they're the ones who write and ask me for signed piccies of _ME_ \- Nekked, me bum an' all!"

"And I wouldn't wonder if there weren't some blokes writing in, in green or violet ink.." grunted Viggo as he began to play seriously, causing Sean"s head to bump rhythmically, quite hard, against the base of the bath-surround.

Banter became incoherent, lost in the medley of grunts and "aaeerrghs errrghs"from Viggo, and "aeerrrs aaarrrs aaaahooohs aarghs" issuing from Sean. This was their 'duet' from 'La Passionata' the opera Viggo swore he'd write some day. The finale of their opera crescendo'd, and a satisfied round of applause slapped on Sean"s back as Viggo slid to the floor beside his panting lover. The lover had enough strength to straighten the Nice Woolly Bathmat so that Viggo's bony hip didn't have contact with the floor. They lay, just touching, patting, breathing in each other's breath.

"Hey, Sean, that Treasure - we must publish it.  Perceval could do it - it'd be simply perfect just as it is.  Then with an addenda with translation, the references, indeces of quotes...histories of the poets.... oh, all about them...."

"Vigs, you're talking now about something that'll be the size of the Encyclopaedia Britannica if you try to put all that in it! That's far bigger than anything you do at the Press".

"OK....ok, it'll have to be pruned, tidied a bit, but not dismembered or gutted, and it MUST have the little cartoons and doodles - and the reproduction must be accurate on the paper, the printing, the ...."

"Yeah, yeah love, we'll do it, Vigs, we'll get it out there, to be loved like we do it.  Yeah, I"ll help you, referencing and stuff, and the cost, natch - I know you've never got enough for Perceval.  Viggo, we will do it - the treaure - yep".  
  
Viggo giggled gently, still patting Sean"s bumcheek, "What'll we call it - 'The Magic Bean Book'?"

"Oh...er....erm...uh.  Not that, anyroad! Hah - gottit!   'Viggo's Verses in Virtuo'..." Sean cackled.

"Nope! No way - keep anything starting with V.I.R... away from me."

" Ah, hah, yes.... Dreams....." Viggo's voice chimed with his lover's as Sean said,

"Yes.  'Dreams of a Child'.   Vigs.  Of a child... our child this will be...." as he kissed the love of his life.  


And so The Treasure was discovered, and Eugene Theophilus  Cartier was made 'Lord of the World'.

  



End file.
